Equus in Latin Caballo en Espanol
by oij
Summary: Rated 'R' The life and times of Yu-Gi-Oh's most intriguing character, Pegasus J Crawford. Told as a set of monologues.
1. Default Chapter

__

SOME say the world will end in fire, 

Some say in ice. 

From what I've tasted of desire 

I hold with those who favor fire. 

But if it had to perish twice, 

I think I know enough of hate 

To know that for destruction ice 

Is also great 

And would suffice. 

~Robert Frost

You know you have some kind of severely dysfunctional parents when they agree to name you after a kind of animal. My mother decided to call me something dramatic and expressive like "Mustang" which would have been fine if I had goals of getting on one of those crappy early morning soap operas. My father, who was more proper, said that if I had to be named after some kind of horse, I should be called "Equus". Egads, with a name like that I'd have become a scholar...or bag lady...er...man.

My grandmother sensibly disagreed with them. In her infinite wisdom she said to name me after a bird. "Birds are a universal symbol of freedom and peace," she said, "they fly. Horses do not." Makes sense, I suppose, in a "not-really" sorta way.

So, what happened? They compromised. "Some horses fly," my mother said, "Pegasuses fly!" Bingo, she hit upon a name. Pegasus. I wish my naming had come from more dramatic circumstances, though...like being born from a woman's blood or making a fountain with my foot. Of course, the whole situation of my naming begs the question "What the hell IS the plural of Pegasus?" Pegasuses? Pegasi? Whatever, I'm sidetracked again.

*_Disgusted, he sits. He picks up a wineglass and sloshes the claret around a moment_.*

I drink wine, you know. Plenty of it, I'm a regular connoisseur. But I find claret seems much more pleasurable to a palette like my own.... with a few drops of water in it. It is so dry.

When I was younger I still loved wine. I used to pour myself claret, take the delicate glass.... and....

WHAMMO!

*_He throws the glass against the wall. The glass shatters and the claret starts dripping to the floor_*

I'd hurl it against the wall and watch the red drip down to the floor like shed blood....

dribble...

dribble....

dribble.....

It was hypnotic. My parents of course disapproved of this pastime. They refused to allow me into the kitchen anymore. I grew itchy...I played with spoons.

During meal times I'd toss them high into the air and giggle as they spun to the carpet like helicopter rotors. Nobody stopped me.

When I was ten, my father passed away. That was tragic. And soon after Cynthia, my only happiness, disappeared too. I shriveled up in my room and fell into mourning. My mother re-married of course. And, of course, her new husband was a real jerk. Cliche, isn't it?

He pretended to be my friend... until I reached the age of eighteen. I was packing my things to go to college when he slipped in and ravished me, hoping to shatter my spirit. My screams only managed to infuriate him. So, to silence me, he dug his nails into my face and ripped out my eye. I grabbed a wineglass from my nightstand and smashed it against the head of my bed.

Holding the fractured glass in my hand it took only a few quick jabs to slice the old degenerate's throat. He landed on top me, soaked in sweat and blood.

My mother was a good woman, I knew that she would not understand my actions as being in self-defense. The Feds already had my profile as being violent anyway. Americans. We're all bad news. So, I skipped the country like a wild horse.

And 

went

to

Egypt.

There was a group of men, all of them British, who played poker for money each night. One of them, Shadi, wore glasses even when he was indoors. He claimed he had extremely photosensitive eyes and that just a slight bit of bright light could blind him. I asked, "Then why Egypt?" He didn't reply. I didn't push it.

I did find, however, that he was impossible to beat. Every night, he won cash from the hapless people playing against him. I asked how he could be unbeatable at a game that seemed to depend so much on dumb luck. He removed his glasses and I saw that he possessed a golden relic, rather than a normal eye, on the left of his face. It resembled the Eye of Horus. He explained that it allowed him to see into people's minds and, hence, people's cards.

Shadi died. It wasn't my fault. Really. I'm not trying to wave it off or anything. It was partially my fault, but it was mostly the jackals. They chased me and I ran past him and hurtled up a sand dune. Deciding that I was too skinny to be worth the chase, they turned on_ him. _Nothing was left when they were finished. Except bones and the Eye.

I became an Egyptologist and I suppose the rest of the story is history, eh, Kaiba? I've been messed up for a while. *_He laughs_* Don't you think that's funny?


	2. Rambling 2 Crying

One thing that has never been within my seemingly limitless powers is the ability to cry...  
  
Even at the disappearance of Cynthia and Shadi my eyes would not produce tears. There was only person who ever made me weep and that, interestingly enough, was Bandit Keith.  


*_He stretches, spilling a bit of his fresh claret and smiles with obvious discomfort._*  


Bandit Keith sneaked into my palace fully intent on wreaking vengeance upon me for publicly humiliating him. He was an international champion.   
  
He challenged me once.  
  
I grabbed a boy from the sea of observers and led him to the playing deck in my place. To him, I presented nothing more than a paper of guide lines. The boy beat Keith. Right there.  
  
Keith broke into my sanctum, thinking himself clever. But sentient beings never sneak up on me. I sense them. So I intercepted the would-be sneak at a corner beneath a crimson tapestry with a big golden "P" embroidered into it.  
  
I greeted him. He hesitated. We fought. Nothing so dramatic as a brawl, just a simple exchange of insults. He did not flinch beneath my barrage. I went through the alphabet eight times. There are no more insults. Not in English, anyway.  
  
I was about to move on to Japanese when Keith informed me that he had slept with Cynthia before she left.   
  
LIAR!!!  
  
I knew he was lying, but this had caught me off guard. He had found my one weakness, broke through my armor and caught my tender underbelly. And he took advantage of it. Just as I was about to yell that he lied to me and that I knew it, he caught my wrist. Squeezed. Tightly. Tightly enough to make me yelp. Then he trapped my fingers within a gloved fist and pulled on me.  
  
I had managed to rotate my shoulder enough so that his action didn't rip it from my body, though I doubt that really would have stopped him.  
  
Bandit Keith pulled me into him and wrapped a strong arm around me. There was no affection in the gesture. His face was red, mine was white. My breath was trapped in my lungs, there was pressure on my torso. He told me that Cynthia wasn't dead. She was hiding. His grip tightened. My ribs made an interesting noise.  
  
Suddenly I remembered Cynthia's face with painful clarity, I remembered my mother and my stepfather who was killed by my own hands. Shadi. Always Shadi. His memory was lying in the left side of my face.   
  
I could feel myself swell with a delicious fury. I should have burst. I should have ripped the man's face off. 

I cried.  
  
The vast tidal wave of emotions saturated my soul and leaked out of my eyes, weakened my knees and I collapsed against Bandit Keith. By reflex, he caught me and held me close. He smelled like cigarettes. Keith's arm moved upwards from my ribs to my throat and from there his hand went to cup the back of my head and his fingers slid through my hair. I shuddered.  
  
Keith did not attempt anything. He did not move, he just held me, one arm around me and his free hand still clinging to my wrist. He told me I was pathetic. He told me that if he let go of me I would tear out his soul. He was probably right. I choked back a sob.  
  
Nothing but a few layers of clothing separated us now. He could feel me. I could see his mind. I saw it as if he had an open window in his forehead. I decided to poke around for a bit. 

Bandit Keith liked waffles.  
  
I was politely told that my game had inspired him to be the best he could be, if that was at all comforting. I am the father of Duel Monsters, it is true. I was inspired by a stone tablet I found in Egypt depicting a young pharoah. Back then, the monsters were not cards, they were real. And they were banished. Actually, as I think about it, the pharoah kinda looked like that Yuugi brat.  
  
Bandit Keith memorized his deck. I looked at it.  
  
Faker. He thought I was forcing my tears. He thought wrong. It wasn't like I was begging for attention. He rubbed my back, I sunk my nails into his shirt, now soaked through from my weeping. How could one eye produce so much fluid?  
  
He had an Armored Starfish.  
  
I started praying then that one of my body guards would come around the corner and see us. And move in to kill Keith. Ideally, they would miss and kill me instead. Turn the white carpet red with my blood.  
  
Flame Ghost.  
Drooling Lizard.  
  
He pressed me a little harder then let go of me, letting me stand, or try. I collapsed under my own weight to the floor and refused to make eye contact with him. He adjusted his glasses and stared at me for a moment through them. I kept my link to his mind. Telepathy, such as mine, was the ultimate of social disorders. I can see dreams and hear thoughts. On off days, I can hear so much that my own thoughts become drowned out. I become irate. People start talking constantly around me, not giving themselves time to think lest I read their minds. On off days my palace is very noisy. Bandit Keith coughed. I held the link.  
  
King Fog.  
Magical Ghost.  
Witty Phantom.  
  
Bandit Keith knelt down beside me and once again pulled me into an awkward embrace. In the corner of my mind's eye I saw you approaching, Kaiba-boy. I tried to catch a glimpse of you beneath the crook of his arm. He squeezed me tightly and vowed he would defeat me one day. I winced. "I can't breathe," I tried to tell him in a whisper. I failed. "Keith, I havta to use the can!"  
  
*_Pegasus smiles into the fresh glass of watered claret he's holding and sloshes it around. He sighs_*  
  
So, I guess I do have emotion.  
  



	3. Rambling 3 Duelists

I often sit alone in my castle and study the cracks in the ceiling, tracing them with my eye to the open doors leading out into the carpeted hallway.  
  
White carpets.  
  
Very fancy, I thought. I thought, maybe I should buy red ones.  
  
When I was younger I had loved Cynthia with every bare inch of my being and soul. Her death left me empty inside. According to Shadi, my Millenium Eye could have allowed me to see her...So far, I'm disappointed.  
  
I joined Industrial Illusions and found an interest in your company, Seto. Understand that my little coup was not based on a need to rake in cash. Not completely. I love your machines...

I have a post card. Upon it is the angelic face of my Cynthia. If your machines can bring the Duel Monster Cards to life...could it do the same for my lost love? Barely a moment goes by that I don't think about her.  
  
Now, here I am. Alone and single in a vast monstrosity of a castle that is little more than a filing cabinet for windows and budding duelists.

I wonder what will happen if I activate the gas oven and inhale the fumes? The brain is supposed to remain active even after the rest of the body has shut down. For twelve minutes it remains alive....  
  
Dreaming.  
  
No time for that now, of course. I am the creator of Duel Monsters.  
  
When the duelists first arrived on my island I merely observed them like an impassive god.  
  
These are the duelists that made it this far, my guards told me. This is Yuugi Moutou, Rex Raptor, Weevil, Jounouchi, Honda, Mai Valentine...  
  
Hi.  
  
I'm Pegasus J. Crawford.  
  
Why did I introduce myself? Maybe it was the only thing I could do. Seemed right.  
  
Most of them never made it. But you have.  
  
*_He closes his eye and is silent for a moment before continuing_*  
  
You and Yuugi were both part of my experiment. Given the right circumstances and the right incentive, anybody can become a Duel Master. To conquer the mighty, such as myself, one needs to know love. I knew love. I know loss because I loved Cynthia more than I love my self. You share the same feelings towards Mokuba. Yuugi feels the same about his grandfather.  
  
*_He sighs_*  
  
I apologize about Mokuba. I had not expected you to slip into my dungeon. You forced my hand, dear. I had no choice but to take Mokuba's soul. But it worked, didn't it? It persuaded you to attack me with a beautiful white-hot rage. Of course, you never did strike me. You wanted to, though, didn't you? But you could not lift your hand.  
  
I know this because you know this.  
  
You cannot hit me because you love me. It isn't a romantic love, but it is there. You could have hurt me the moment we met. You have a divine animal right to protect yourself and the ones you love. But what if it is a person you love that you need protection from? A person like me.  
  
You love me for the same reason that Yuugi loves me. I am your excuse. I am the reason you fight and the reason you keep on fighting. Ten star chips. Ten defeats. Ten losers. Ten less people with the chance to regain something. Or make a name for themselves. It is a dog-eat-dog world.  
  
I am every duelist's excuse for being. Without me, there would not be a Duel Monster's Game. The concept would still be lost...buried beneath the sands of time.  
  
*_He smiles_*  
  
And that is why nobody has defeated me yet....Your move, Kaiba-Boy...  
  



	4. Ramblin 4 Cartoons

I often dream, Kaiba-boy, that I'm standing, naked, in the middle of the desert.

Hot.

Alone.

My eye is blinded by the spinning sands and harsh winds.  
  
Sightless.  
  
Then, three shapes emerge from the dunes. Two are teenagers; one female with doe-eyes and a gentle smile, one male with platinum hair and the feral eyes of a wolf. Behind them is a woman that is probably their mother. Together, these forms walk past me, not even noticing I'm there.  
  
And, a few moments later, another shape emerges. This one is young man with a turban, seated upon a dromedary. He looks at me with an amber gaze that seems achingly familiar.  
  
....Shadi?  
  
I do not know what to make of these dreams, but they keep coming. More and more of them. All of them with the same characters and with me unable to affect the outcome of their actions. It's almost as if I'm watching something that is happening as I sleep. But...Shadi, was he not British? And, more importantly...is he not dead?  
  
*_He sighs and lies back on his bed_*  
  
I'm sorry, Kaiba. I mean, hearing about other people's dreams can be annoying, I know.  
  
Why don't we talk about something else? Like cartoons.  
  
You know. Cartoons. Humanity's gift to itself.  
  
I know what you're thinking, Kaiba-boy. I, a twenty-four-year-old rich man, am a watcher of cartoons? Why? I have managed to convince myself that it is just me trying to keep a grasp on my inner child.  
  
I had no childhood. I grew up in a mansion in California. My father ran a Las Vegas casino and, when he died, he gave the ownership to my mother. We had a frequent visitor who took with him his daughter Cynthia.  
  
I introduced myself. I'm Pegasus.  
  
Like the winged horse.   
  
She smiled. I was in love. She turned me on to the beauty of the world and I became inspired. I became a painter. I vowed that, one day, I would travel the world.  
  
But it wasn't to be. My light dimmed and her inner fire died within my arms.

And that was it. The eve of our wedding the fates robbed her from my life.

*_He chokes back a sob and flings his arm over his eyes._*  
  
We were both 17. I never did paint after that. Even the sites of Egypt failed to inspire me.  
  
So you see, Kaiba-boy. I need my cartoons. They make laugh and when I laugh I feel my soul rise into the heavens. I feel _her_ lying in my arms again.  
  
Cartoons are an art form. They are moving pictures. Moving paintings. In cartoons, the main character is never hurt. Ruff Ruff McDog pursues Funny Bunny in a mad, never-ending chase but never once lays a paw on the hero. I wish...I wish life were like that. I wish that I was beyond pain, but, alas, I am not.  
  
Nobody is.   
  
If I drop a small medicine ball out my window, and if it hits somebody, it will hurt him. Severely. Trust me on this, I've performed the experiment. Bandit Keith still hasn't forgiven me for it.  
  
When he came about to consciousness again I just smiled.  
  
Oh. So that's how gravity works.  
  
Keith is my personal cartoon. He defies the laws of physics. Keith can fly. 

I know this because he knows this.  
  
Many times I see him wandering around my castle. Thrice he will cross my path, each time heading in the same direction. He did not win enough duels to face me. He knows this. I know this. Nevertheless, he lurks around my castle, claiming squatter's rights on my time. I have managed to always be "busy" so far.  
  
Since Keith and a TV are not always available, I also read comic books. These amusing pieces of literature tell a tale through images. Life, I think, would be portrayed in comic-book form to a celestial being. Artists illustrating these books draw from what they see and what they see is drawn from God's Paintbrush.  
  
We are all cartoons in a sense, Seto Kaiba. None of us truly exist. We are merely figments of some greater being's imagination. Think about it.  



	5. Rambling 5 Bandit Keith

The Big Five, leaders of the Kaiba Corporation with nice jobs in business management and accounting, told me that I could have control over the Corporation in the event of your death. That is why my men went to flush you out of your home.   
  
Sorry about that. 

But I _need_ that technology, Kaiba-boy. 

I need it.  
  
....Cynthia....  
  
Bending the Big Five to my will was simple. And, no, sleeping with them was not a part of the deal. I merely seduced them with talk of riches. As a back up, I carried a knife in my belt.  
  
And I used to be such a nice person.  
  
Things around the castle have been different with you walking around in want of a soul. Yesterday, while you were washing the dishes, you broke three crystal wineglasses. Boy, was I ever irate. I screamed at you but you just stared back with a blank, empty gaze. I continued to holler until Croquet came in and dragged me away. So now you have no soul. Now you are an empty shell. Now the Big Five, leaders of the Kaiba Corporation with nice jobs in business management and accounting, can give me your empire. As long as Yuugi is eliminated and the Corporation's good name is restored.  
  
And you're not the only one bringing the winds of change into my castle. Keith has been behaving strangely too. He seems to have forgotten half of the reason why he is here.  
  
Idiot.  
  
*_He laughs and looks out the window_*  
  
He has found my weight room and set up camp there until I choose to acknowledge his existence. Who would have thought that one duel in one tournament could irritate a person so much? He still calls me by that pet name. "Cutie Pie". That is what he called me when we dueled. I guess he thought I was too pretty to be much of a bother.   
  
Blew that theory out of the water, didn't I?  
  
Whenever he looks at me I see the same conflicting emotions that I used to see in you. He adores me but he would like to break my neck. Reading his mind reveals him to a very confused individual. Like me, he probably suffers from a mental disorder but does not care. I must admit, there are times when I think about Cynthia and become distraught like that. There are times I miss her touch and want to run out into the island and throw myself into the arms of a random duelist and cry. Ask for the person to hold me for just a moment  
  
Love me.  
  
But for the most part, Duelists look upon me as a god. A creature to be respected but never touched. Bandit Kieth's take on me is decidedly different. After that boy dealt the finishing blow to him in the tournament...with my instructions... he hunted me down. He found me outside the arena and slammed me up against the wall, holding me by the throat. He called me Cutie Pie again and my attention instantly shifted from his words to the increasing pressure on my windpipe. Something about humiliation, impossibility and bitter hatred. He lifted his free hand and brushed my hair from my face giving him a full view of the Millenium Eye. He snarled. I giggled. The pressure increased.  
  
Kill me.  
  
He asked me, how could I be laughing at such a time as that? I said that he could abuse me to his heart's content. He could punch me, strangle me, kick me, whatever, but he would not murder me. He threw me to the ground and rained some savage blows upon my helpless body. I lifted my arms to guard my face by instinct and continued to giggle. Go on, I prompted him, let your ire out, I'll be your punching bag. But remember this, no matter what, you will not murder me. You cannot, can you? You are the one who demanded that I attend this tournament to duel you so I'm _your_ responsibility!  
  
Do whatever you desire to me, just remember that I AM!  
  
Bandit Kieth ended up leaving me in the dirt, still giggling, blood caking my hair to my face. I was and still am a hopeless mess.  
  
And the dreams still haunt me, Kaiba-boy. The man in the turban who seems to be Shadi...and that boy with the strange eyes. They are violet, and they penetrate me deeply. And I hear his voice...  
  
_This is the Valley of Kings where the greatest rulers lie and here too shalt thou lie forever more..._  
  
What can that mean?  
  



	6. Rambling 6 Punishment

I woke up with my bosom filled with hatred for I had dreamt that night of Cynthia. Of her final moments, weakened but no less beautiful. I held her as she breathed her last.  
  
She had loved me. She would sleep by my side at night. Just sleep. And in the mornings she'd kiss me and remind me that I was her light. And I told her that she was mine.  
  
And she died.  
  
The one person who could ever hold me and kiss away my grief. The one person who would ever show up on the 28th of April with a small cake and a gift and say 'Pegasus, I'm glad you were born'.  
  
At one time I believed that the world was a fundamentally good place. But I now had doubts. How could it be!? How could a good place take away an innocent life like that! I now know the world is sick. One life form must rob another life form of its very existence to survive. There is no use to such a world!  
  
*_ He balls his hands into fists and snarls_*  
  
I wanted to destroy something, Kaiba-boy! I wanted to rid the world of all things beautiful! If my life was empty of beauty, so too, should be everybody else's! I wanted to set fire to the Statue of Liberty and watch it burn! I wanted to flood the Louvre! I wanted to piss over the side of the Great Pyramid!  
  
But I did not.  
  
It was the day of the Championship Duel; me against Yuugi and the entire gang was at my castle. Honda had been aiding Keith in raiding the pantry, Jounouchi had gotten lost more times than had seemed right and Mai and Anzu had gotten themselves locked in the tunnels once or twice. Ryou Bakura was the only one who seemed to be at home and he didn't even belong there. He smiled at me once and said I had pretty eyes. The gold one was shiny.  
  
I had no way to respond to that. Frankly, the kid gives me the heebi-jeebies and I don't know why.  
  
Kemo and Croquet detected my ire that day and knew to stay at least ten paces behind me. To my grief, Mr. Howard has never been blessed with this wisdom. He came charging into my path and stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking my path to the Duel.  
  
His mind was stirred up. He was confused. Kill me? Kiss me? Damn, what was he going to do now? Kemo, with his usual lack of tact, reached into his jacket for his gun but I stayed his hand. There was no need for weapons.  
  
Keith had me where he wanted me, now what? He held a knife. He knew I traveled without a means of physically defending myself. So, I searched my mind for a defense. I searched his.  
  
Metal Raiders?  
  
Keith demanded the prize money and I recalled the duel between me and him. When I brought it up he yelled at me to silence myself in the most impolite fashion. Keith had dominated me throughout most of our duel. I had let him.  
  
Let the Bandit eat cake.  
  
But Keith was afraid of me. He played cards that were stuck up in his sleeves. Cheater. He cheated. I told him that he could have the prize money he felt I owed him under one condition. He would have to be punished for cheating.  
  
Keith Howard guffawed and stood there like he did not have a care in the world. He had always done what he wanted and nobody had ever had the nerve to smack him around and tell him he was wrong. He figured I would play out the same tune. He wanted to run up and embrace me. He wanted to strangle me. He was still confused.  
  
I told him that the game we would play was called Punishment. He had no idea what I was talking about. _I_ had no idea what I was talking about! All I knew was that Keith had chosen the wrong day to cross me. I wanted to destroy something. In all honesty, if he had not shown up I would have screamed and slammed my forehead against the wall until the pain stole my breath and blood matted my hair. I've done it before, you know.  
  
Keith's mind finally focused and homed in on the day that I collapsed against him, sobbing.  
  
A game.  
  
He had held me and, apparently, that was when part of his anger turned into lust. But he had found my weakness. Cynthia.  
  
Called.  
  
Cynthia died! My only love! An image crossed through my mind, my step-father who had torn out my eye. The image altered slightly, becoming the man in the turban. Shadi? A hand at my chin. A knife. Blood.  
  
PUNISHMENT!!!  
  
I focused my frustration into my fingertips and let it flow out of me into Bandit Keith. An expression crossed his face, one of pain and confusion. He collapsed to his knees and clutched at his wrist as veins bulged and popped and flesh tore. Rising from this area, moist with blood, came the nozzle of a revolver. Sticking out of the back of his hand, his thumb up and his finger pointing forward like a child's imitation of a gun. Keith yelled that his hand had turned into a gun. A symbol of death and misery to him.  
  
Feel me, Keith. Feel my pain.  
  
Cynthia with her arms around me. Shadi with his knife. The boy with the violet eyes. My suffering. Keith thought he knew what it felt like to lead a tragic existence. He had no idea.  
  
Keith lifted his finger to his temple, unable to control his own actions, and wiggled his thumb. His bones struck the powder. The force sent the bullet out and the compressed gases released it.  
  
It was the shot that was not heard 'round the world. Keith collapsed to the edge of the carpet, the side of his head a mess of blood of spilled brains. My castle was a chamber of silence. The sounds of the shot rose into the tapestries and were swallowed whole. I stood over the older man and brushed my hair from my face.  
  
I am God's smirking Harbinger of Fate.  
  
_He laughs hysterically_  
  
Croquet fainted. Kemo just stood, wide-eyed and shaking. I felt better. My head and heart were cleared. All of my frustration had been in that bullet. I told Kemo to dump Keith out the window. Let what came from the sea return to the sea.  
  
  



	7. Rambling 7 Lifestyles of the Rich and Fa...

  
  
I awoke with my head in my arms and the phone ringing. The phone was ringing in my dreams too and I wondered if reality had spilled into them or if my dreams had sloshed over into reality. I retrieved the phone and lifted it to my ear.  
Hello, Industrial Illusions, Mr. Crawford speaking.  
That was the name of my company. Industrial Illusions.  
The voice at the other end of the line was soft and spoke in an eerily familiar Arabic accent. "This is Master Shadi. It seems to me that your love for this life has been wearing a little thin."  
I trembled and slammed down on the receiver.   
Shadi?  
Alive?  
Not British!?  
  
*_ He closes his eye and chuckles_*  
  
Nobody else seemed to be present so I left my Sanctum in a hurry and decided to go for a walk.  
  
Croquet asked me why I was intent on walking everywhere. I had a limousine.  
  
I like to run. I run always. I've always been running. I'll never stop running.  
  
"You're a piece of work, Sir," said Croquet. "At least purchase yourself a horse."  
I do not want a horse. The last thing I needed was to travel across the Island with a large, smelly beast of burden, I told him. I mentally smacked myself. I traveled with a large, smelly beast of burden already. Its name was Kemo.  
  
Maybe I did need a horse. A white stallion would certainly pull together my image but obtaining one here was unlikely. I could not possibly race across the island shouting for one.  
  
A horse! A horse! My Kingdom for a horse!  
A horse?  
Of course! A large beast of burden. A horse. "Equus" in Latin, "Caballo" in Espanol? Does "Mr. Ed" ring a bell?  
  
No, the use of horses as modes of transportation went out with the use of leeches as doctor's items.  
  
Thank you, but I have legs.  
Thank you, but I prefer just getting medication.  
  
The problem is, people do not want me to walk or run to get around. It doesn't seem to be my style to them. Kemo, for example, says that he can do my field work, my exercises for me.   
I want to walk.  
"But, Sir! What if you get lost?"  
I won't get lost. This is my island.  
"But Sir!"  
  
Every single day there's Croquet, there's Kemo. Yes, Sir; no, Sir.   
I've found Yuugi, he's dueling Insector Haga, otherwise called Weevil.   
Sir.  
  
I often wonder how life is for the common folk. Probably easier. Nobody curries favor with them. Nobody tells them that such a mundane thing as, say, walking, is a poor idea. But, what am I telling you for, eh, Kaiba-boy? You were once in the same situation as I. Only now, well...Now my men have conquered your mansion. You are on the run now.  
  
You are running from me.  
  
I am running from my past.  
  
See, Kaiba-boy? We're not so different, you and I. Yuugi is another matter completely. One boy. One small boy. He lives with his grandfather. Nobody tells him what to do. He does not live with paranoia as I do.  
  
Meet my six body guards who travel through the mainland at my side. Meet my two bodyguards who follow me through my own castle. These are the security cameras in my Sanctum. Only when I piss am I ever alone. Even when I sleep, Croquet is always moving through the room.  
  
Easy life. Right. I would give this all away to just see Cynthia once more.  
  
Take care of yourself in the future, Kaiba-boy, should your soul ever be freed.


	8. Rambling 8 Shadow Games

As I sit and think I start believing that all I once saw as true about myself may be false...My step father did indeed make an advance on me but he did not take my eye...He could not have...  
  
And then of course...

...Shadi...  
  
...A phantom in the edge of my mind. These dreams I have been having lately...they could not have been poorly digested cheese or bad wine. Shadi was not a card player...He was not British...He did not have this Eye of mine in his skull.  
  
But then why do I remember him as such? What kind of defense to my spirit has my conscious mind created? Why does it block the truth? And why does my subconscious mind want me to know it did?   
  
All I know through this complex web of self-inflicted lies is that Cynthia is dead. Gone. And I can not stand it. It eats away at my soul and I'd do anything to have that wound healed.  
  
Even at the cost of other mortal souls.  
  
I must have her back.  
  
I will have her back.  
  
The things a man does for love, eh, Kaiba-boy?  
  
By night I collect spirits to place in my Eye for my Eye is an ethereal parasite, feeding off the eternal souls of physical beings.   
  
"Realm of Shadows,  
In this twilight hour  
Accept these souls  
And grant us power"  
  
You and your opponent stand in an Egyptian chamber, each turning an ancient slab with a gesture of your hand. Whoever reveals the strongest entity wins. You come out on top with a Dark Magician.  
  
The Millenium Items can possess enough power to turn the person who wields them into a god. All a person needs do is power them up appropriately. If I can gain enough power then I can gain mastery over life. Directly applying magic to one of your holograms could make it breath, make it REAL! And I have a card of Cynthia...  
  
I could make her REAL, Kaiba-boy.  
  
All I need are souls. The more I capture, the more powerful my Eye becomes.  
  
Perhaps Cynthia would not want to be brought back, perhaps she is happy where she is...but what if she is not? And what if when I draw her soul from what the Egyptians called "Duat", she returns with no memory of who I am? Such thoughts plague me, but I try not to pay attention to them. I could just attend church and pray for her...  
  
But instead I play shadow games.  
  
"Realm of Shadows,  
In this twilight hour  
Accept these souls  
And grant us power"  
  
You and your opponent stand in an Egyptian chamber, each turning an ancient slab with a gesture of your hand. Whoever reveals the strongest entity wins. The emblem on your opponent's slab is revealed to be a Blue Eyes White Dragon.  
  
You pray for your eternal soul.  
  
I was interrupted during one of my rituals by none other than Ryou Bakura, Honda, and that brat Anzu. I attempted to seal them away, to use their souls to feed my power but instead I was counter-attacked by the power of Ryou's Millenium Ring. His darkness overtook him and I had a flashing vision of myself in the future. What if the Eye grew so powerful that it consumed me as the Ring did Bakura? I had to regulate my rituals enough to maintain humanity, to keep a grip on myself.   
  
*_ He beats his fist into his palm_*  
  
Bakura's darkness over-powered me and I still have my belief that it was not the last time the two of us would clash. His darkness desires my Eye. While I am powered by stealing souls, it is powered by stealing other Millenium Items.  
  
The Apocalypse is upon us.  
  
Help us...Shadi....  
  
  
  



	9. Rambling 9 Memories

Not good enough.  
  
Not smart enough.  
  
Not strong enough.  
  
I lost. I lost to Yuugi, Kaiba-boy! Damn the brat. Damn the Kuribou and that Magician of Black Chaos. What is WRONG with me? Have I lost my edge?  
  
*_ He sighs_*  
  
At that moment when Relinquished burst into a flurry of multi-colored lights my mind released its iron grip on something. Shadi.  
  
That Egyptian boy who plagued my dreams. I could never fully shake his form from my memory so I had painted him once. The only painting I did after Cynthia's death. I had not at the time associated the name "Shadi" with the Egyptian. My memory deceived me and had me believing that Shadi was a British gambler. I fell for it. I wonder why. "Shadi" is not even remotely a British name!  
  
Yuugi and his friends approached me after the match. I was tired and I did not feel well but they asked me to explain myself. I could not control it. As the truth revealed itself to me, I, in turn, revealed it to them.  
  
I explained how I met Cynthia at a gala being held at my biological father's estate. I explained how I fell in love with her, how we grew up together and how she was taken from me.  
In a need to put my heart at ease, I started to research the beliefs of various ancient cultures regarding the dead. My studies brought me to Egypt, the country that held more unexplained mysteries than any other place on earth.  
  
I was walking through the stretch of sands called the Tell-el-Amarna when I happened upon a small, desolate village. The streets were dusty and surrounded by squat, sandstone buildings. Lined up on all sides of me were the wretched inhabitants. They were curled over rugs and blankets hawking goods that ranged from dried meats to jewelry. Many were asleep. Others may have been dead.  
  
I remember looking upon them and nearly getting plowed over by a gaunt, ill-looking man carrying what I know now was the Millenium Ring. Pursuing him was a group of men in black robes who also appeared to be ill-nourished. They took no notice of me, but snagged the writhing thief and forced him to his feet.  
  
"No, please, don't hurt me! I'll give it back!"  
  
The circle of black robes closed around him.   
  
"Have mercy, I beg you!"  
  
WAIT!  
  
The dark men turned and stared at me as I pulled a greasy wad of American currency from my pocket and brandished it in the air like an olive branch.  
  
I'll give you what you want for him! See? I'll give you all of this!  
  
They stared at me like I had just offered them road kill.   
  
Laughing, they walked away down the street, dragging the thief between them and parting like the Red Sea as they did so. It took me a moment to realize that they had parted to open a pathway for a young boy.  
  
The boy's gaze was cold, mysterious and filled with curiosity as he approached me with the stride of a cat. Around his neck was an ankh that tapered into a key.  
  
"Put away that money if you value your life."  
I slowly did so. The boy pulled an ostrich feather from his turban and gently turned it in his fingertips.   
  
"This man stole a treasure from a sacred place...I must teach him a lesson. The treasure is priceless."  
  
He walked for a moment beside me, looking me up and down. "Are you a tourist?"  
  
I said nothing.   
  
"This place was built upon Amarna soil by the raiders of tombs. We have come to call this place the Village of Plunderers. While Egypt grew into Persian rule I am afraid that we crossed over and became different people."  
  
The Village of Plunderers?  
  
The boy looked after his group of men, still wandering off with the thief.  
  
"Here is not the place for people like you. It is within your best interest to leave the Village."  
  
He folded his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe and walked away, pausing only long enough to say, "You will not find landscapes here to inspire you and you will find nothing to comfort your soul after the loss of your beloved."  
  
I am certain that what happened next was destiny. It was bound to happen somehow, but I am not sure if having me chase after him was part of the plan. Shadi may have just overestimated my intelligence.   
  
He led his party of degenerates into a simple building of clay bricks. I followed and found myself confronted by a twisting darkness that seemed to descend into the bowels of the earth. I braced myself, and went slowly down the winding stairwell and stopped at the bottom, amazed by what I saw!  
  
Beneath the house was an ancient tomb. A single dais sat in the middle of the chamber supporting a golden sarcophagus that must have weighed nearly a ton. The surface of the sarcophagus had seven grooves, each designed to hold a Millenium Item I suppose. I slid in for a closer look and ducked behind one of the four Hathoric pillars that held the chamber ceiling over my head.  
  
Not smart enough.  
  
The thief wailed and screamed as Shadi dragged him to the dais. He begged the boy for forgiveness but the boy would not move. He stared at the old man.  
  
"I have no intention of punishing you for the theft of this Millenium Item. I simply wish to see if it accepts you as its master."  
  
I could not see the thief's face but I am certain that it must have worn a confused expression. Mine did.  
  
"You will carry this item," said the boy as two of his men slid the Ring about the thief's neck. "And you will have your answer."  
  
The blades of the Ring turned themselves inward and stabbed through the thief's emaciated form. Then, the Ring started to glow. The man's eyes bulged and fire poured from them, his mouth, his ears, his open wounds. The chamber was filled with the fetid odor of burning flesh and bone. Shadi's icy gaze did not falter and the flames consuming the man lit his face from below, giving him an infernal look.  
  
"Those who are not accepted will find their hearts bursting into flames and they will die."  
  
Then, the man was nothing but ash. My delicate stomach turned cartwheels inside me. Shadi picked the Ring from the ashes and held it reverently as the robed men crowded about him.  
  
"Will we meet the One today?" somebody crowed. "Without him we will never find the other Millenium Items."  
  
"It matters not," said the boy and he met their gaze. "The Items call to each other. They are like individual parts of a single whole. Someday, they will be reunited."  
  
And he placed the Ring into its allotted spot on the Royal Seal.  
  
As I told Yuugi about this, Kaiba-boy, he jumped slightly.  
  
"The Stone Circle of the Royal Seal!?"  
  
Yes. The Stone Circle.  
  
Three Items lay upon the Royal Seal. The Millenium Scales, the Ring...  
  
....And the Millenium Eye.  
  
Not strong enough.  
  
I'm afraid that I may have cried out after the pyrotechnics display. Surely, one of the men did wheel about the Hathoric pillar and place a thin hand upon my shoulder. "WHY ARE YOU HERE!?"  
  
I gasped as he wrenched my arms behind my back and dragged me before the boy.   
  
Release me!  
  
Shadi did not even turn around. He just stood where he was. "It seems you did not heed my warning." He slowly looked over his shoulder. "You were not supposed to see that. Only the Divine may leave here."  
  
I won't tell anybody what I saw! Honest!  
  
He walked towards the sarcophagus and removed the Eye from its forehead.  
  
"You will be tested by the Millenium Eye," he said softly.  
Millenium Eye?  
  
"If it accepts you, it will grant your wish to see your love again."  
  
...Cynthia...  
  
I was suddenly aware of somebody standing behind me. One of the robed men grasped my chin and wrenched my head back. Then there was pain - intense, unbearable pain - as he slid a knife into my left eye and removed it. Another shoved the golden orb into its place. Blood flowed down my neck and I collapsed.  
  
Then, I saw a column of light. I slowly lifted my face, and there she was. Cynthia, in her angelic beauty. She called my name.  
  
"This Eye allows you to see things that exist beyond the here and now..."  
  
She descended from the light into my arms and I was filled with happiness. But the meeting was short and then she was gone.  
  
"But touching, feeling, being...These are beyond the power of this Millenium Item."  
  
Just like that. Gone. I fell forward again, crying for her and I curled up in the fetal position.  
  
Shadi knelt beside me. He was amazed that I had not descended into madness. My failure to do so meant one thing.  
  
I was the One who would bear the Eye...  
  
As my true memories came from my mind and mouth and fell upon the ears of Yuugi and his friends there was a silence.   
  
An awkward silence.  
  
"Cynthia...," said Yuugi. "Pegasus, it is what you desired."  
  
Not good enough.  
  
And he left with Anzu, Honda and Katsuya, closed my sanctum door and left me alone once more. I limped over to the nightstand where I had your Soul Card, Kaiba-boy. Mokuba's and Yuugi's grandfather's too. I had made a deal with Yuugi. If I lost, I would release your souls. I was reluctant to do so, but I am a man of my word. With what little was left of my magic, I freed you all.  
  
Then I sighed.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
I went over the meeting in my head and it struck me! Bakura had not been with them! Where was Bakura!?  
  
Almost as if in answer to my question, the door opened and Bakura sauntered in. He trotted over to my nightstand and started shuffling through my cards, laying them face down quite happily in Tarot form. I sensed the power of his Ring.  
  
"It's amazing what you can learn from Tarot readings."  
  
He flipped a card. "The Happy Lover Card. It tells me that you have had a love in your life. But it is upside-down which indicates that it ended in heartbreak. Who would have thought you even had a heart? Let alone one so easily broken."  
  
Oh, do shut up.  
  
He smiled and turned to me. "I can give you a second chance. A chance for my Millenium Ring. How about a Shadow Game? Perhaps what you failed to get from Yuugi you can get from me."  
  
The Ring started glowing and its blades pointed outwards towards me, each one focusing its energy into a single beam.   
  
I stood my ground though, Kaiba-boy, and focused my own energies through the Millenium Eye. I could feel his mind but it was fresh while mine was weak from my duel. The beam plowed into the area between my eyes and threw me against the wall.  
  
Not good enough.  
  
Not smart enough.  
  
"Pathetic mortal," Bakura hissed and he reached a hand for my face. "Now it is time to help myself to your Millenium Item...And silence you forever..."  
  
Not strong enough...  
  
  



End file.
